


Their true colours

by Greengargouille



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, It's more worldbuilding than anything really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:38:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greengargouille/pseuds/Greengargouille
Summary: In an alternate universe, everyone have tentacles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> One day, I will finally be able to decide between American and British orthography. Today is not that day.

Sometimes, Kanzaki looked very carefully at the neck of Kayano.

The two little green stumps were barely visible, if not for the usual hairstyle of the short girl.

Kanzaki thought a lot about those. Not about their position ; from the top of the head to the tailbone, the neck was the most usual spot for the tentacles. It wasn’t their number, either. Two tentacles was common. Two tentacles was supposed to be the original form their ancestor all had : one or three, like her, was a mutation, the former admittedly more usual than the later.

Four tentacles would have been rare. Karma had four tentacles ; with his already many talents, that put him on a higher place than most of them in Kunugigaoka. He was special, they said ; a genius.

(It took her months and a few victories against him on arcade games to understand that he was, foremost, a brat made lonely by the pedestal he was put on ; she liked him better like this, a dork who loved comic books and got irritated at losing, every bit a fourteen years old like every one of them.)

What bothered her about Kayano’s tentacles was their colour.

She knew it shouldn’t matter, she really did. It wasn’t much more different from eye or hair colour. But, unconsciously, she couldn’t help but to make assumptions, much like as if she knew about her zodiacal sign or blood type.

_Green tentacles meant smugness._

It made no sense. For each Maehara, whose pink tentacles suited his flirty, despicable cheating personality, there was a Okajima, who instead of the cherry blossom hue which fitted his perviness so much, had the same bright orange tentacles as Kurahashi, satisfaction and optimist, good answer and hope for the world.

Kayano wasn’t smug. She was the kind, quiet girl who preferred to support the ones who overshadowed her. Even her commented on how silly it was. “ _It matches my hair colour, but not so much for the ‘destined for glory’, eheh.”_. 

So, even if this classification of colour didn’t amount to much, why did Kanzaki felt a problem with that ?

Maybe she could answer this if she could have a closer look to those tentacles. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t remember the girl deploying them to their full length. But, surely, it must be that Kanzaki didn’t paid any mind when that happened. Kayano wasn’t trying to hide her tentacles, else she wouldn’t style her hair in such a way. She was much like the rest of the girls, hair cut short or tied in ponytails that wouldn’t hinder their tentacles’ moves.

She wasn’t like Rio or Kanzaki, who hided their true colours under their mane, despite everyone knowing about the patches of grey the entire class shared. The one that made them fall from the Class B reserved to the three tentacles to join those with that visual deformity.

Grey didn’t meant a lot as far as physical abilities were concerned. All of them could control their tentacles just like before, needed as much sugar for them, could change their size as it suited the situation the best.

Grey stains on the tentacles was a more vicious phenomena. It was the accumulation of stress and neglect, of being pushed all around and crushed under responsibilities, of anxiousness and defeat. It was made of every little thing that made them think they were worth less and that made her grades fall -the last two being tied together in a complex dance, where scores judged not only the faults one made but the value of their work, and such of their whole self.

Of course, it wasn’t that the other students never felt those things. They just survived to them, every all-nighter leaving them numb and every anxiety attack in tears hidden just well enough for them to live another day under a mask of nonchalance. The colourless patches weren’t just proof of problems, but failure at concealing them.

As far as the class knew, it was for that that Kanzaki let her hair unattached, the black streaks covering the affliction. However, it’s been a long time she wore her hair in such a way. It would be unpleasant if people knew of her red tentacles. Anger and irritation didn’t suit the daughter of a good family. She never have been told that, but it have been implied enough.

But Kayano wasn’t like that. Kayano displayed the greenness of her slimy limbs to everyone wanting to know. She didn’t hide who she was -or was supposed to be according to others. Kanzaki admired that, just like she admired Hazama proudly displaying her purpleness as a weapon -purple was bitterness and unpleasant feelings, it was thinking something was wrong in the way the world functioned- or each of her comrades. 

Maybe the problem came from Kanzaki. When she imagined rolling the green tentacles around her fingers to kiss them, she couldn’t see grey stains on them. Maybe, in her head, she still thought that, despite how admirable were all her comrades, this illness was still a tare. It was hard to change mentalities. Maybe she thought, too, that if Kayano wasn’t what she looked like, then it might be okay if they were together, that her own anger at how her father treated her, at how the whole school wanted her to be, would matter a little less.

She felt bad for thinking that Kayano could be anything but a sweet girl -an assassin yes, but sweet noneless. She should bury this unpleasant feeling something was wrong, bury it very deeply along with that rebellious part of her she ditched -kindness might be a conscious decision for her rather than an evidence, but it was still a decision she wanted to make, just like she wanted to decide that her doubts mattered less than the way the short girl smiled at her. 

Sometimes, Kanzaki looked very carefully at Kayano’s neck. But she would pretend to herself, she was only admiring the beautiful line it formed.

(And then one day Kayano attacked Korosensei, with tentacles stained in black spots of rage and vengeance and every strong feeling one could feel.

Somehow, Kanzaki felt better at this reveal.)


End file.
